


beat out my chest

by Anonymous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coming Out, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Presumed Dead, Reunions, and i will fight you on that, so i wrote some, this is the most underappreciated relationship in the mcu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 14:46:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17205371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Before Rhodey leaves, he tells Tony it’ll be five weeks.“Five and a half, tops,” he promises, and presses a kiss to the hollow of Tony’s throat.Five weeks later, though, Tony sits in his lab all day, tinkering with nothing, with JARVIS on high alert, and - nothing happens.Rhodey doesn’t come home.





	beat out my chest

Before Rhodey leaves, he tells Tony it’ll be five weeks.

“Five and a half, tops,” he promises, and presses a kiss to the hollow of Tony’s throat.

Tony groans, flopping over into the tangled mess of bed sheets. “No,” he says, “no, that’s too long, I can’t go for sex for that long, Rhodey, come on, this is so unfair,” and Rhodey snorts and runs his fingers through Tony’s hair.

“Please,” he says, “you went longer when you were twenty-five, and you’re not twenty-five anymore,” and then Tony’s gasping dramatically, pushing himself up to demand, “Are you calling me  _old?”_ and the discussion is dropped.

Five weeks later, though, Tony sits in his lab all day, tinkering with air, JARVIS on high alert, and - nothing happens.

Rhodey doesn’t come home.

Tony frowns but tells himself it’s nothing, he’d said it could run long, and besides, it was only one day.

But it didn’t do much to push away the uneasy feeling in his belly.

By the time three days had passed, the uneasy feeling had bloomed into a conviction that something was  _wrong,_ a conviction he couldn’t shake no matter how much he tried to logic himself out of it. He checked his phone constantly, and kept the music in the workshop low, just in case JARVIS said something he couldn’t hear, but nothing happened.

On the fourth day, he gives in and tells JARVIS they’re hacking the Air Force Base. JARVIS agrees with no small amount of disapproval in his voice, but Tony doesn’t care because, a) JARVIS is his AI, it’s his job, and b) it’s Rhodey.

It takes half an hour to get in (pathetic, pathetic military security, god, they need to go back to StarkTech before North Korea gets a hold of all the classified information in the fucking country), but when he does and checks the status next to Rhodey’s name, it makes his heart drop to his stomach.

_Reported missing in action during classified mission on 08/19/12. Rescue efforts currently underway._

He hacks the rest of the system, too, until he’s got eyes on the very fucking attempted rescue mission, and he watches it while cracking his knuckles and gnawing his fingernails. The only thing that keeps him from going out there himself is the knowledge that this classified mission is a stealth mission - Rhodey had told him himself before he left - and Tony knows if he goes in guns blazing it’ll just result in people dying, maybe Rhodey. And they might not even have him.

So instead he chews on his lip and bites his tongue and sits on his hands and every other fucking metaphor for silence as he tries not to scream into the quiet of his workshop and prays even though he doesn’t believe in a god. He prays to Jesus and he prays to Allah and he prays to Odin, just in case he actually hears that sort of thing, because he needs Rhodey to  _come back._ He needs Rhodey to judge him and fight him and pull him out of sandy deserts at the end of the day, at the end of the night, he needs Rhodey in the sheets next to him, his palm over the arc reactor, Rhodey making breakfast because Tony can’t cook, Rhodey dragging Tony home for Christmases and Easters, Rhodey in his bed and Rhodey in his ‘shop and Rhodey Rhodey Rhodey -

Ten days after Rhodey goes missing, and five days after Tony hears about it, the status is updated. JARVIS wakes him up for it; he’s sleeping on the couch in the workshop, his bed uncomfortable and cold.

“Sir,” JARVIS says as Dummy prods him into consciousness. “Colonel Rhodes’ status has changed.”

Tony’s blood runs cold, and for a moment, he wonders if this is it; if the new status will say,  _Deceased, body recovered 08/29/12,_ or if it’ll say,  _MIA, search efforts ceased, presumed dead._ If Tony will once more be left alone.

When Tony finally works up the courage to click on the update, it doesn’t say either. It says,  _Retrieved; injured but stable._

Tony feels like he could cry.

He does cry, later, bent over his worktable, Dummy a few feet away with a fucking fire extinguisher, and Tony’s heart beating out his relief in his chest, burning and warm.

As Rhodey’s official next of kin, he gets the call the next day, then asks them to call Rhodey’s family, too, because he can’t do it, not now, not like this, sleep-deprived and puppetted by caffeine and prods from Dummy, achy and hungry and tired, a hole by his side where Rhodey should be.

He doesn’t leave the workshop, waiting for a call from Rhodey that never comes. He knows it isn’t Rhodey’s fault - there’s a reason for it, he’s sure, a reason for this deviation from the norm, and he’s in the military’s system so he knows that it’s not that Rhodey isn’t hurt, it’s just - he misses it, Rhodey’s voice, Rhodey’s calm like aloe, soft and soothing, even half a world away.

He reads all the classified mission reports, examines the pictures of the War Machine armor, and hacks the video feed in the hospital, so he can feel like a pervert while he watches Rhodey sleep.  Then he gets to work upgrading the weak points in the armor.

( _Miracle he didn’t die,_ a handwritten note on the side of one report says.  _That suit’s a work of art. Fall would have killed anyone else._

Tony is not satisfied. Tony thinks if he were better, Rhodey wouldn’t have gotten hurt at all.)

Four days after he gets the phone call, Tony’s in the middle of outlining new upgrades for the War Machine repulsors when JARVIS interrupts him.

“Sir,” JARVIS injects delicately, “Colonel Rhodes has just entered the building and is headed for the common area.”

“Shit,” Tony swears, already striding towards the door, “A little more warning, Jay?”

“Forgive me, but you did ask to be informed when he reached the premises, not beforehand.”

Tony waves a hand, stabs the button for the shared floor. “Semantics.” As the elevator starts moving, Tony takes a deep breath, then lets it out again. Standing still, staring at his own reflection in the gold walls of the elevator, he suddenly feels very jittery. He tries to focus, forcing himself to stop bouncing on his feet.

It’s just so hard because -  _Rhodey’s home._ Rhodey’s here, Rhodey’s back, Rhodey’s not dead, he’s alive and fine and coming up to see Tony right now, and in a minute he’ll be able to hold him and he’ll know that he’s -

“Sir,” JARVIS prompts when Tony doesn’t exit the elevator when the doors open. Tony jolts back into himself and, shaking his head, steps out into the living room, where all the other Avengers are gathered with popcorn and soda, the beginnings of what looks like Sixteen Candles flickering to life on the TV.

“Man of Iron!” Thor booms when he spots Tony. “We have just begun a ‘Movie Night’ as I believe it is called. Do you wish to join us? We asked the good JARVIS but he said you were -“

And then Tony stops listening, because the doors to the other elevator - the main one - slide open, and Rhodey steps out, looking tired and worn, a butterfly bandage on his forehead and a green bag slung over his shoulder.

Tony stops breathing.

“Rhodey,” he hears himself say, and Rhodey startles. As he turns towards Tony, his gaze goes soft.

“Tones,” he says, and Tony’s brain kicks back online long enough to register that he’s standing twenty feet away for  _no fucking reason,_ and then he’s hurrying forward, rest of the Avengers be damned, to throw his arms around Rhodey’s neck.

“Rhodey,” Tony says again, into Rhodey’s shoulder. Rhodey has the best shoulders - warm and soft and perfect for passing out on, if you need it.

“Hey,” Rhodey says into Tony’s ear, his voice rumbling through Tony’s chest. He rubs his hand up and down Tony’s spine, deliberate and slow. “No absurd nicknames this time? I’m disappointed. I mean, shit, I even gave you two extra weeks to think of something good.”

Tony tries to laugh but it comes out choked and watery, and so he just slips his fingers into the hair at the base of Rhodey’s neck instead. “’S not funny,” he says finally, his voice muffled by Rhodey’s shirt.

“No,” Rhodey says, serious, “I suppose it’s not. Remember this, maybe, next time you decide to sacrifice yourself for the greater good?”

Tony chuckles again, weak. “No promises, platypus,” he says, and it makes Rhodey smile. Tony leans back, then, leaving just his hands on Rhodey’s shoulders. “How are you?” he asks.

“Like you haven’t read my doctor’s reports.” Tony affects an innocent face, like  _who, me?_ “Please. I know you. If you didn’t hack the military system the second you knew I was hurt, then I’m Wonder Woman.”

“Well I guess we’re in for a kinky role play tonight, Diana,” Tony says. “Jay?”

“In fact, sir did not hack the system when he heard of your injuries,” JARVIS says. “Sir hacked the military system after not hearing from you for four days. The official injury report came in six days later.”

“See?” Tony says, like he’s proved a point, but it just makes Rhodey’s frown, like he’s imagining Tony, in his workshop by himself, reading about what had happened, and being left with nothing but a disembodied voice and a metal arm to comfort him.

“I’m fine,” Tony says, seeing the expression on Rhodey’s face, “really, you’re the one who almost died this week, don’t worry about  _me.”_

Rhodey sighs, lifting his hand to cup Tony’s jaw. He rubs his thumb over Tony’s cheek. “When am I not worrying about you, honestly, Tones,” and then he’s kissing him, and Tony doesn’t care that the other Avengers are in the room and probably watching them, because Rhodey is back, and Rhodey is safe, and he might not be whole - he might have a poorly stitched side wound that Tony will have to be careful of tonight, this week, the rest of their lives, running his fingers over the scar tissue and wondering,  _what if_ \- but the soul of him, the  _Rhodey_ of him, that’s back.

“Hi,” Tony says when Rhodey pulls back, and Rhodey smiles at him.

“Hi,” he says. “We already said that. Did I break the genius? You know they say sex can kill brain cells, but maybe I’m just  _that_ good that all it takes is a kiss -“

“Technically  _I_ never said hi,” Tony argues, steeping back to take Rhodey’s bag and wrap his arm around Rhodey’s waist, a reassurance as much as a support. He steers them towards his elevator. “I was too busy dramatically crying into your shoulder.”

Rhodey snorts. “True, I suppose,” he says. “Why are we going to this elevator? Did you honestly not equip the main one to go to your floor?”

“No, I just don’t have the keycard.”

Rhodey raises an eyebrow. “You need a keycard now? Is JARVIS broken?”

“No, but like, it’s a second defense. What if a clone of me tried to get up here? Doesn’t have the keycard, see? Have to look like me  _and_ have a keycard to get to the penthouse.”

“That - what - Tony, that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, when are there  _ever_  going to clones of you just floating around New York -“

“Life model decoys! They’re everywhere, Rhodey, don’t deny it, you know you’ve seen one, and besides, never say never, you’ve probably just jinxed us, this time next Tuesday there’s going to be a sea of Tony Starks running all over Manhattan and you’re gonna think, oh, shouldn’t’ve said that, but it’ll be too late -“

The elevator doors close on them, still bickering.

“Well,” Clint says after a long moment of stunned silence. “I did not see that one coming.”

“No,” Natasha says thoughtfully, as Steve peeks out from behind his hands. “But maybe we should’ve.”

-

Rhodey groans, dropping his bag by the nightstand and flopping face-first onto the bed. “Beds are fabulous,” he says, voice muffled by the comforter. Tony grins down at him, something fragile beating in his throat.

“They still making you sleep on those glamorized boulders?” Tony asks. Rhodey flops for a second, managing to turn onto his back. “Because, you know, I’m rich, I’ve got influence, and the offer still stands, I can send you a horsehair mattress - a Sleep Number, if you’re into that, maybe a water bed, just in case there’s a drought -“

“Tony,” Rhodes says, and Tony stops. Rhodey pushes himself up into a seated position, something soft in his expression. “Come here.”

Tony gives easily, moving forward to straddle Rhodey’s lap, one knee by each hip. “How you doing, sugarplum? Your side -“

“Is fine,” Rhodey interrupts, hands coming up to settle on Tony’s waist. “I’m fine, Tones.”

“Good,” Tony says, “that’s -“ and then he’s leaning forward to kiss Rhodey, because he’s tired of sitting and waiting and he’s tired of this ache in his chest he still can’t shake.

The kiss is warm and comfortable, just like Rhodey, and Tony lets it stretch out, lets himself breathe Rhodey in.

When he finally pulls back, Tony presses his forehead to Rhodey’s, their noses almost touching, eyes closed. He’s breathing hard, but he doesn’t care.

“I missed you,” he says, and his voice cracks, god, isn’t that embarrassing, but Rhodey just rubs his hand up Tony’s back, his big warm hand. It sends shivers up Tony’s spine.

“I missed you too,” Rhodey breathes, and Tony can’t help it anymore. He makes a noise, in the back of his throat, that probably sounds like a wounded animal, and moves to kiss him, slow, almost unbothered, but wet. It tastes like salt. Tony realizes when he pulls back that there are tears on his cheeks. He’s not sure whose they are.

“I’m fine, Tony,” Rhodey murmurs as he presses kisses into Tony’s jaw. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

_Until the next time you deploy,_ Tony thinks but does not say.

Rhodey seems to hear it anyway. “Tones,” he says softly, rubbing his thumbs in circles on Tony’s sides. “Hey. You’re okay.”

Tony feels tears pressing out from the backs of his eyes, suddenly unstoppable. “Don’t die on me,” he hears himself say, the sound warped as though floating through water. “Don’t -“

Rhodey hushes him, tightening his grip on Tony’s hips, but Tony can’t help it.

“I wouldn’t make it, if you -“ Tony breathes deep, a shuttering gasp. “If you leave me, too.”

“Oh, Tones,” Rhodey says sadly. “I promise. I promise you, I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s a dumb promise to make - meaningless, really, when you consider all the ways Rhodey could be taken away from Tony against his own will - but Tony lets it comfort him anyway. He sinks into Rhodey’s arms and breathes deep. Everything is going to be okay.

-

The next morning, Rhodey slips out from under Tony’s arm and out of bed to go get them coffee. Tony’s kitchen is out of grounds, though, and by the time he’s gotten downstairs, his side is aching. He sits down at the table to rest while he waits for the coffee to brew.

“I didn’t realize,” someone says from behind Rhodey, “that you two were - involved.”

Rhodey turns his head to see Steve Rogers hovering somewhat awkwardly in the doorway. Rhodey pats the chair next to him. “Have a seat, Captain.”

After a moment’s pause, Steve does as he’s told, folding his hands carefully in front of him. Rhodey doesn’t look away from Steve’s eyes. “Is this going to be an issue?”

Steve flinches back. “What? No, of course not, what - we don’t care about that. I mean, we care, but only because we care about you guys. No, we’re happy for you, I think it’s more that I’m - and a lot of the team, I guess - we’re just confused.” Rhodey waits for Steve to go on. “I mean, why do you guys keep it so private? If I may ask.”

Rhodey thinks. “Well, for years, there was Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. I’m sure you’ve heard about that since you’ve got back, right?” Steve nods. “I mean, I’m an air force man. So we kept it quiet for my career. It didn’t hurt SI stock, either - being gay in the nineties, it wasn’t - something people did so much, at least not CEOs. And then, once DADT was repealed - well, we just never really saw a reason to stop. I mean, we stopped being quite so careful. But despite what may seem like overwhelming evidence to the contrary, we do actually like our privacy. And nobody in the tabloids have picked up anything yet.”

“You guys must have been dating for a long time, then,” Steve says.

Rhodey nods. “We’ve been together for - god, how many years, JARVIS?”

“Twenty-five,” a voice that is decidedly not JARVIS supplies from behind him. Rhodey turns to smile at Tony, who has horrible bedhead and is wearing one of Rhodey’s Air Force sweatshirts. “What are you doing down here?”

Rhodey points to the coffee in the corner. Tony makes a noise that can only be described as obscene and darts towards the machine like a cat towards a mouse. Rhodey smiles even as he asks, “Do I need to be jealous?”

“I don’t know, honeybear,” Tony says, as he takes one of his gigantic mugs and fills it to the brim with the almost disgustingly black coffee. “Did you make this or did Steve?”

Rhodey rolls his eyes. “Oh, I see how it is, only with me for my culinary skills.”

“Well, there might be a  _few_ more skills I’m interested in,” Tony says, winking at Rhodey over his mug. “Cap, you want any?”

Only then does Rhodey realize that Steve has gone a startlingly bright red. White boys. “Um, no thank you.”

Tony shrugs. “Your loss,” he says, bringing Rhodey a mug. Rhodey takes it carefully, and sets it out of the way on the table, giving Tony room to settle on his lap. Tony perches on Rhodey’s knee, and Rhodey settles his hand on Tony’s hip.

“See, I feel like we would have noticed this,” Steve says, and Tony just raises his eyebrows as Rhodey grins.

“Nope, you’re just startlingly unobservant. This happens every time he comes over. Last time, we fucked on the couch in the middle of movie night and none of you even noticed.”

Rhodey groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tony,” he says, but there’s a smile in his voice, and he knows Tony will hear it.

“What?” Tony says, fake surprised. “It’s true!” Then he glances at Steve’s horrified face. “I’m joking, Captain Modesty, calm down. Nah, I just figured -“ He shrugs, takes a sip of his coffee. “If you know, you know. No point being subtle.”

“Besides,” Rhodey adds, “I’ll be here for a month, at least. Knowing Tony, I’m sure you’ll see a lot worse.”

“Hey!” Tony protests, but he’s grinning. “That’s, that’s slander, key lime, I am an upstanding American citizen, I would  _never_  subject Captain American to any inappropriate sights -“

Rhodey puts his hand over Tony’s mouth. “Shut up Tony,” he says. Tony licks his palm, and Rhodey signs, but doesn’t budge; it’s not like Tony’s spit is new to him, after all.

“What’s the occasion for the leave?” Steve asks, and it’s polite, a polite conversation starter, but it still makes Tony still in Rhodey’s arms.

“Oh, a bit of an injury,” Rhodey says as easily as he can, his hand falling from Tony’s mouth to settle back on his hip. “I was supposed to be back a couple of weeks ago, but I got held up, and as a reward I get some time to rest and recoup. Longer than I need, really, I’m half healed already,” and that last bit is directed at Tony, even though Rhodey doesn’t break eye contact with Steve, even though he’s sipping his coffee resolutely.

He rubs his thumb on Tony’s side.

“I’m sorry to hear that, James,” Steve says, sincere - god, he’s so sincere, he really is the human embodiment of apple pie, Tony tends to exaggerate these things but it really is true - and Rhodey nods at him.

“Thank you, Steve,” he says. For a moment, there is silence - but then Tony is breaking it, like Tony always does, like silence is a personal affront.

“Anyway!” he says, draining his mug as he stands from Rhodey’s lap. “As nice as this chat has been, Cap, we got things to do and people to see!” Tony turns to Rhodey, then, something mischievous twinkling in his eye. “Or things to see and people to do, really, your pick, but the bots have missed you, and I gotta upgrade Dummy but I was drunk when I wrote the code so I would appreciate someone to check it over for me.”

Tony doesn’t need anyone to check it over and Rhodey knows it - he’s got JARVIS to do that, and even if he didn’t, he’s not drunk now.

Rhodey indulges him anyway. “Of course,” he says, rising to his feet slowly. Tony takes him by the upper arm, waiting, but Rhodey waves him off, with a mutter of,  _I’m fine, it’s fine._ “I’ll see you around, I’m sure?” he says to Steve, and Steve nods at him, waves his hand in a sort of half-salute, like he can’t decide what’s appropriate.

“God, he really is Uncle Sam,” Rhodey says under his breath as soon as they’ve left the kitchen, and Tony laughs from beside him, brushing his shoulder against Rhodey’s.

“I told you,” Tony says, “didn’t I tell you?” And then he’s off on some rant about something Steve said to Fury the other day, something about the 1940s and the use of the word ‘oriental’ that has Rhodey wincing but feeling bad anyway because, well, it’s not Steve’s fault he’s a hundred years old. It’s just, you know, not anyone else’s fault either.

“You okay?” Rhodey asks, when, in the elevator, Tony pauses for an odd moment before pressing the button for the basement.

“Yeah,” Tony says, “yeah, of course, just -“ He swallows, smiles at Rhodey. “Just glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” Rhodey says, and reaches out to grab Tony’s hand.

In the golden wall of the elevator, their faces smile back at them.


End file.
